


The Devil's In Town

by God0fMischief



Category: Casino Royale (2006)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Black Character(s), Character(s) of Color, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-29 14:28:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7687984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/God0fMischief/pseuds/God0fMischief
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Evangeline Pentergraham tries repeatedly to kill criminal mastermind, Le Chiffre, in a blood-for-blood effort, Le Chiffre is left with no choice but to get rid of her and quickly. But he is met with great difficulty along the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Devil's In Town

**Author's Note:**

> Le Chiffre alternate universe, Rated T/M.
> 
> Violence ahead, beware!

It was almost unbelievable how much the human body could handle before it would finally let up and die. He had seen men and women alike survive for hours on end in agony under boulders, or being ripped apart by cars going different directions. Even torn in half they were very alive and very aware of how their bodies had been violated and disrespected. But that was what happened when you crossed the Angel of Death. At this present moment, he was smashing his fist into the face of a traitor, huge metal rings on each finger to give the punches more weight and substance. Angelo, the traitor of the day, had flapped his crooked gums to London's local police about a large shipment of Golden Ticket - a newer, improved version of heroin- coming in from Brazil. To teach him a lesson and warn the rest of the henchmen and lackeys of their impending doom if they followed Angelo's path, a torture session had been organized. Angelo wasn't just going to die - no no no, he was going to _suffer_.

The Angel of Death fit in two more neck snapping punches before a lackey tapped him on the shoulder.

"Uh, Le Chiffre..Someone's waiting to speak to you on the video conference app." The man said, almost like he was unaware of what was happening in front of him. That was how it usually was; most of the lackeys tried to ignore Le Chiffre's ruthlessness. It helped them sleep better at night.

"Who is it?" Le Chiffre barked, wiping blood from the corner of his lip. It wasn't his blood; it belonged to the mutilated Angelo.

"A woman by the name of Evangeline Pentergraham."

"Pentergraham, Pentergraham." Le Chiffre murmured, trying to place the name to a face, Angelo squeaking as he tried to move his dislocated jaw. When Le Chiffre came up empty, he turned to the lackey, whose name was Marquis, and said:

"Tell Gregory to do it. I don't talk to people I don't know. Tell him to be vague about it. She could be an informant."

Gregory Hawkins, Le Chiffre's right hand man, was in charge of handling business arrangements and meetings when Le Chiffre was busy or did not want to be seen. Quite simply, Gregory was a front.

Marquis dipped his head in assent like a butler and left as fast as he could. Before he closed the door behind him, what used to be his partner, Angelo, grunted as Le Chiffre began working on his abdomen.

...

Le Chiffre drew lines and shapes into the misty shower door, inhaling the warmth as best he could. Tonight was going to be a lonely night it seemed. After Angelo had finally let go and passed on, Le Chiffre ordered his body to be cremated and spread around the forest just outside the city limits. No evidence, no problem. Beating Angelo was as much excitement as he would get today - the only thing left to do on his otherwise clear schedule was to meet the mysterious Evangeline at Broadview's, a high class inn reserved only for the most wealthy ladies and gentlemen in or visiting London. He didn't have a problem with the meeting itself, but rather _who_ it was with. He did not know Ms. Pentergraham, and he had an inkling she was bad news. Under different circumstances Le Chiffre would have refused to see her, but Gregory had insisted, citing her apparently famous reputation as a kingpin.

So out of curiosity, Le Chiffre agreed and arranged for the two to have a late dinner in Broadview's five-star restaurant to see what she had to say. The reservation had been set for twelve persons rather than two; he expected she would have her right hand as well as assistants and security present, just like him. If she was worth her salt, she would have a whole security detail protecting her tonight in such a public place.

"We shall see," he mumbled to himself.

He stepped out of the foggy shower, his limbs relaxed and ready to do everything but go out tonight. But there was a job to be done. He bit his lip and walked over to the counter, examining his face and fingers for any blood he might have forgotten to scrub off. All clear, and ready to go, it seemed.

Le Chiffre tilted his head a little, this time inspecting his physique; he was an average height - tall but not too much so, with a strong set of shoulders that led down to a toned, slightly hairy chest. He eyes trailed down a little farther in the mirror, and this time he admired what came below the belt. He smiled a genuine, crooked smile; many had said the Angel of Death was so evil because he was suffering from "Little Man Syndrome", but that was not the case.

He leaned in over the counter-top, and examined his face again, taking note that the scar cutting from the top of his left eyelid to the bottom was healing, the eye itself still a milky white. He reached over to the edge of the counter and grabbed a plush, white towel to dry himself off with. Looking over at the digital clock on the counter, he saw it was already 8:37 PM. Any minute longer and he would be running behind.

And everyone knew Le Chiffre didn't like to be late. The consequences, even if it was his fault, had the possibility to turn violent.

He walked over to the door which connected the walk-in closet to the bathroom, wrapping the towel around his waist and flicking the light switch by the side of the door up, causing light to immediately seep up from under the doorway. He turned the door handle to the right and gently pushed the door open, revealing a very organized closet full of suits, shoes, jewelry - namely watches - and coats, the drawers full of shirts and pajamas, and other belongings. Tonight he was feeling daring, which meant an equally extravagant suit was in store.

Le Chiffre already knew which one he had in mind, a specific suit he had just had custom designed and tailored a few days before. It was a black suit, his usual and favorite color, but the bow tie and lapels were a deep, almost-black burgundy color. He grabbed this and the matching burgundy shoes and watch. The extravagance was subtle, not meant for anyone but him. He never dressed to impress, he dressed well because he could.

Soon after he had tied the bow tie to perfection, a soft knock on the door leading to his bedroom came. He walked to the door and pulled it open quickly, hoping to surprise one of his lackeys, but instead it was Gregory.

He made a mental note to work on trying to catch Gregory off guard. He was probably the only one Le Chiffre had ever come across that could not be surprised by anything, not even him.

"Gregory," Le Chiffre said simply, moving past the equally dapper man, "are you ready?"

His business partner and only real friend nodded. Tonight Gregory was dressed to the nines in a light grey suit with a white dress shirt, diamond stud earrings and the matching watch adorning his large frame. Le Chiffre looked up at the man, who was a good four inches taller than he, and smiled.

Gregory could be counted on through thick or thin, and had been with Le Chiffre since the two started out in a secret Danish prison camp. How Gregory, a Black American, got there Le Chiffre would never know and he never did ask. They had helped each other escape and get on their feet in the underground world of mobs and militia, making it to the top, and that, to Le Chiffre, was all that mattered. Sure Mr. Hawkins was his right hand man, but make no mistake, he was self-made with his own businesses on the side.

"Lu is waiting in the car with the briefing on Pentergraham. I don't know much about her besides the fact that she's new money. Don't think she's ever cut, but I could be wrong." Gregory said, walking into the flat's living room.

"New money, no cut. If she's never cut, how is she a boss?" Le Chiffre asked.

"Cut" was slang for beating and murdering. It puzzled Le Chiffre how Ms. Pentergraham had a reputation in their field of work, but the cards would play out with the briefing and the meeting.

"Don't know," Gregory replied, "but we'll hear more in the limo. Come on, Lu is waiting."

...

The chauffeur held the Hummer limo door open as Gregory and Le Chiffre climbed in, both fully expecting to see the fast-talking Lu Banes sitting in one of the seats. They were not disappointed.

"Gentlemen!" Lu exclaimed. "Pleasure to see you tonight!"

Gregory nodded his head in greeting and cut right to the chase. "You got the info?"

"Of course!" Lu nodded his head and waved a manila folder around. "All you need to know about Evangeline Pentergraham-Carter is right here."

Lu Banes was in charge of researching clients, partners, and enemies for both Gregory and Le Chiffre. Le Chiffre always said that if the annoying little shit stopped turning up good information, he would shoot him right in his vocal chords.

The private investigator turned over the folder to Gregory, who then shook out its contents; a few pages of paper with black type and glossy photos of Evangeline.

Evangeline Elaine Pentergraham-Carter was the daughter of the notorious mobster, Fred "the Kid" Brown. Upon her parents divorce, Evangeline's mother gave her her maiden name. So that was why Le Chiffre couldn't place the name earlier.

"Lu, this doesn't tell us shit," Gregory said in a calm tone. He sat back in the limo, handing the papers over to Le Chiffre.

"There's not much to tell," Lu replied, not missing a beat. "You know how secretive Kid Brown was. I'm sure she's just following in his footsteps."

"What about cuts?" Le Chiffre said, going through the pages with focus. He didn't want to miss anything.

Lu shrugged. "No cuts recorded."

Gregory licked his lips and, for once, wished he could bury Lu in the ground as much as Le Chiffre did. Both men disliked going into situations blind without anything to fall back on. He looked over at his friend and could feel Le Chiffre's tension - already a bad sign and they hadn't even made it to the Broadview yet.

"Le Chiffre, calm down, it's gonna be alright," he said to his friend.

The Angel of Death simply nodded, trying to curb his growing appetite to break bone. Meanwhile Lu stared, not a little incredulous at the sight before him. Gregory Hawkins was the only one who could tell Le Chiffre to calm down and not get his head torn off. He thanked whatever God existed above - everyone knew Le Chiffre was waiting for a chance to cut Lu's throat.

Le Chiffre looked out the Hummer limo's window and watched the lights of the city pass by, anxiously awaiting the meeting with the unfamiliar Evangeline Pentergraham.

**Author's Note:**

> In case you are wondering what I envisioned Gregory Hawkins to look/sound like, the actor, Henry Simmons, is his face claim. Hope you enjoyed the story! Feedback is welcome and much appreciated!


End file.
